


another human punchline

by lucashemwow



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Fires, Fluff, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magical Realism, Temporary Character Death, mentions of anxiety and depression, violence towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:23:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8654107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucashemwow/pseuds/lucashemwow
Summary: Luke just wishes he could outrun the demons that haunt him. Ashton just wishes someone would finally see him. The crumbling mansion at the edge of the woods just might be the only safe haven they've ever had.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic i've been working on for the good portion of a year and i'm so glad to finally post it. this was inspired by a dream i had and then this blossomed and damn, this is the work i'm the most proud of. 
> 
> the playlist for this fic can be found [here](http://8tracks.com/lucashemwow/a-heavy-heart-to-carry). 
> 
> _reminder:_ please do not post/repost any of the things i have written and posted without my permission, no matter the website or circumstance

Luke's forehead is cold, pressed against the unforgiving glass of the window. Rain patters against the other side, a cliche that he feels too accurately describes how he feels right now. How his entire family feels right now. 

Jack's sitting next to him in the back seat, Ben in the front next to their mother. Both of them are tense, too wound up to really sit still. Jack's silent, staring out the window at the forest that blurs past them. Ben's talking to Liz, his voice too low for Luke to be able to hear over the music playing through the headphones. 

Luke closes his eyes, curling his body up so that he's pressed completely to the car door. He feels how Jack's eyes immediately turn to him, making sure he's okay, and linger on Luke's back, where the evidence of what they're running from is hidden behind the fabric of Luke's sweater. Jack doesn't say anything, but he reaches over and links his fingers with Luke's, squeezing his hand tightly. Luke's glad for the comfort. 

His chest feels too tight, his thoughts dark and messy and too jumbled to fit in his head. He feels small, too vulnerable with his family so close, the walls of the car starting to press closer and closer. Just as he's about to rip open the car door to get some fresh air, Ben gently touches his knee, smiling as softly as he can. 

"We're almost there," he whispers once Luke's taken out one of his headphones, keeping his voice quiet to help Luke settle. Luke nods at him, pushing away from the window to curl himself into Jack's side. Jack holds him close, occasionally pressing light kisses to his hair. 

They pass the sign welcoming them to their new home, the name of the town worn and too chipped to read. Luke doesn't particularly care where they are, anyways, since he's just glad they've gotten out of the hell they were in before. He'd live anywhere if it meant his family was finally safe. 

The trees thin out after that as they enter the actual town itself, houses beginning to flash by. The town is bigger and more developed than Luke had originally thought, which is a relief. There's the school he'll be starting at by the start of next week, a road of shops next to it. People walk along the sidewalks, smiling and waving despite the heavy rain pouring down. 

Liz turns down a small road, leading away from the town square just a little bit. Luke notices an old mansion in the distance, its walls completely overgrown with vines even from this distance. It's abandoned, obviously, and Luke briefly wonders why. 

He loses all thoughts of the mansion when Liz turns again and stops in front of a house, unbuckling and smiling at her sons. 

"We're here," she says, her voice just as soft as Ben's had been. Her eyes meet Luke's. "It's one of the biggest houses they had for sale, so it'll be plenty of room for us. It was extremely cheap, too, especially for what we needed. Each of us get our own rooms, all of them on the second floor." She reaches out to touch Luke's knee, her eyes softening. "I really hope you like it. I think this is going to be good for us." 

Luke swallows hard and nods, offering her a shaky smile in return. She looks worried for a split second, a look that's becoming the usual for her now, before she leans forward to press a delicate kiss to Luke's forehead. 

"Help me with the boxes," she tells Jack and Ben, getting out of the car and walking towards the trailer hitched to the back. While Luke would normally get offended that he's being treated like glass, he's too tired to help them unload, so he lets himself into the house. 

It's spacious, with wide windows and an open concept that he automatically loves. Everything is so bright and airy, the cheerful look making him feel safer. He doesn't spend too much time downstairs, wandering from room to room, before he makes his way upstairs, choosing which bedroom he wants to claim as his own. 

He hears Ben call his name, obviously trying to find him, but Luke doesn't respond. He gently pushes open the first door he comes across, though he closes it again when he realizes it's the master bedroom. Though he's certain his mother would give it to him if he asked, he's not going to. She deserves the space and the comfort this room allows, and Luke refuses to take that from her. 

Ben catches up to him when he's standing in the second room, studying the way the walls blend together. There's a little window seat he's in love with, and the walk in closet is big enough that it wouldn't make him panic to be in it. As much as he wants the room, however, he has a sinking gut feeling that this is the nicest room other than the master. He knows Ben is going to want him to have it, but he feels bad. Ben's the oldest, he should have the best room. 

Ben smiles at him, leaning against the doorframe. "You like this room, don't you?" he asks. 

Luke looks away, nodding shyly. He shakes his head afterwards, turning to face his brother, biting softly at the piercing in his lip. "You should have it, though." 

Ben rolls his eyes, walking further into the room, touching Luke's shoulder. "Lu, if you like this room, you can have it. I _want_ you to have it." 

Luke sighs, turning to lean against Ben's chest. He doesn't say anything else, just lets his brother wrap him up in a hug that helps to settle the chaos in his head. 

His eyes wander over to the window, the rain splattered glass just barely letting him see out into the forest. From the angle he's at, he can see the same mansion he saw earlier, hulking at the edge of the town. The same brief curiosity flashes through him. 

He feels drawn towards the old mansion, though he can't figure out why.

* * *

Luke and his family adjust to living in the quaint little town quickly, their house beginning to feel like home. Luke spends a lot of time in his room, unpacking his things and finding them places in the slowly developing walls. He hangs posters above his bed, filling his bookshelves with all of his books and the odd knickknacks he's collected over the years. His desk is already messy, covered in drawings and pens and journals, even though he's just barely started school. 

There isn't much to the school, only a few simple rooms in which he spends his entire day. There's only a few dozen other students in his class, because most of the kids that live here are young. Even within the small group of kids his age, Luke keeps to himself, preferring to curl up in the corner with a pen and a notebook and draw. 

He doesn't get away with that for long. 

One day, just after they've been dismissed for lunch, Luke finds himself joined by two of the girls in his class. He can't remember their names and he doesn't want to, because they're invading his space and talking too fast and making him want to lash out. 

"Why'd you move here?" one of them asks, leaning forward to look more closely at Luke. He squirms, uncomfortable, especially when the second girl leans closer too. 

"We don't get many new students here," she adds, arching an eyebrow. "Where'd you come from? You must have a reason to move here."

Luke opens his mouth to reply, maybe to tell them to leave him alone, but before he can say anything, his mind flashes with images of why exactly his family left Sydney. His throat closes up, the phantom pain of glass and fists hitting his body all at once. Over the sound of the blood suddenly rushing through his ears, he can hear the echo of his own screams, the sound of his mother crying for help. 

He stands up too fast, almost falling over. He knows the girls are probably staring at him, confused, but he needs to get out, needs to get away. The vice around his lungs gets tighter, pushing him into a dead-out sprint, away from the schoolyard. He hears shouts behind him, but they terrify him even more. He clutches his journal to his chest and _runs_ , tears blinding him. He doesn't care where he goes, doesn't care what happens, just wants to find a place to be alone. He needs to be alone. 

Dimly, he's aware that he's running through the forest, the trees whipping his cheeks and chest as he passes, but he doesn't stop. He never slows down, not even when he stumbles through a rosebush. The stinging pain from the thorns does nothing to calm him down. 

Eventually, he comes across a small clearing, deep enough in the woods that he doesn't know where he is. He sees a building not too far ahead and heads towards it, surprised when he breaks through the tree line to find himself at the abandoned mansion. He hadn't realized he'd run that far. 

The mansion looks even more formidable up close, the white paint peeling and faded. Ivy climbs up at walls, clinging to the wood. The entire foundation seems to sag, the windows and doors dark and gaping. A strange sort of silence encases the property, broken only by the distant cawing of the crows circling overhead. Everything about this screams for Luke to turn around. 

He doesn't, though. He's always loved the paranormal, enough that his feet begin to drag closer to the house without him even realizing it. He knows he's being stupid; there might be a wild animal or an axe murderer hiding within the walls, or he could disturb a malevolent ghost. He doesn't even know where he is in regards to the rest of the town, and he's certain his brothers are freaking out. The house draws him forward anyways. 

The front door is unlocked, surprisingly, and Luke gets the feeling whatever forced the previous occupants out of this house forced them out quickly. This fact is strengthened when he realizes the house is still completely furnished, though everything has been covered with a thick layer of dust. The midday sunlight casts shadows over the floors, and for a moment, Luke feels like he isn't alone. 

The moment passes however, and his feet pull him forward to explore. The entire first floor looks like it's straight out of a Victorian era, complete with delicate china wear and plush pink sofas. The walls are covered in a flowered wallpaper, some of it old and peeling away. 

When he circles back towards the front foyer of the house again, Luke stumbles across a door he hadn't noticed when he first came in. It's just beside the big spiral staircase leading to the second floor, so Luke carefully pushes it open, wincing when the door squeaks after so long of not being used. His jaw drops when he sees what's on the other side. 

He stands in the doorway of a huge library. Slowly, he closes the door behind him, taking in the beauty around him. The floor to ceiling bookshelves are stuffed to the brim, lit up by the big window on the opposite wall. Plush armchairs sit circled around a small coffee table, the ladder to reach up to the higher shelves still poised, as if someone was looking for a book before they left. 

Luke steps further into the room, running the fingers of the hand not clutching his journal to his chest over the spines of the beautiful books closest to him. Dust billows into the air, making him cough. The sound seems too loud for the tranquil, almost eerie silence. 

Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by books, it suddenly hits him how alone he is, not only in the room but in the world. The tears he'd just barely managed to push down well back up, and this time there's nothing to distract him. A broken sob rips from his mouth, and then his shoulders are slumping. Tears pour down his cheeks, the ache in his chest flaring up enough to make him stumble over to the closest wall, sinking down in until he can bury his face in his knees. He doesn't remove his backpack or let go of his journal, just hugs his knees to his chest and sobs. 

He's alone, in an abandoned house deep in the woods, because his family moved across the country to help him heal. No one understands, as much as his brothers try to help him. He's completely, utterly alone, and the feeling washes over him in a tidal wave of despair. 

Too long passes before he's all cried out, eyes red and swollen and chest aching even worse. He tips his head back against the bookshelf behind him, eyes closing in exhaustion. It's silent in the room save for his ragged breathing. Once again, he gets the fleeting feeling that he isn't alone, that eyes are on him, and while that should freak him out, the feeling of being watched in an abandoned house, it doesn't. The feeling is warm and safe, as crazy as Luke knows he is for thinking it. 

A light breeze tickles his face, and before he can question where it came from, the sound of rustling pages reaches his ears. Luke opens his eyes, frowning, before he notices a book lying open on the coffee table he saw earlier. The pages sway in the light breeze. 

Curious, Luke stands up, shrugging off his backpack and laying his journal on top of it. He walks towards the book, glancing around before he takes a seat in front of it. 

The front of the old book is worn, the leather soft under his hands, but he can just barely make out the gold lettering spelling out the words _Irwin Family Tree._ Luke frowns, gently thumbing over the delicate letters. 

The book is old and heavy, the pages stiff. Each page has a big black and white picture of a family member with a description written in calligraphy on the opposite page. Luke doesn't care about the Irwins that lived years and years ago, absently thumbing through the book. He notices when the writing becomes written standardly, and the pictures become in color. He doesn't take much interest in it until he reaches a part of the book where the picture and the description were very obviously torn from the binding. 

Luke frowns again, touching the jagged edges of the parchment. He blows out a breath, quickly flipping through the rest of the book to see if the missing pages were stuffed somewhere else, but to no avail. He wonders who the missing person is, but the little stub of paper is only stamped with a large _A_. 

He grabs his phone from his pocket, intent on searching up the Irwin family, but his eyes widen when he takes in all the notifications he has. One hundred and seventy two unread messages, almost two hundred missed calls, all from Jack and Ben and his mother. Luke looks up, noticing how the sun is beginning to set, and he curses, jumping up to grab his backpack and journal. He rushes to the door, about to leave, when he pauses, turning to look back at the book. 

He hesitates, glancing at the time, before he slowly walks back to the table, crouching in front of the book. "I promise I'll find who you are," he whispers to the book, gently touching the jagged, ripped edges. The page flutters in response. 

Luke turns back to leave, pausing again, just long enough to let his voice carry through the empty room. "I'll be back." 

The house seems to breathe a sigh of relief.

* * *

Luke leans over his computer, pouring over the article he'd managed to find. 

It's dim in his room, the clock on his bedside table reading _1:43 am_. He should be asleep, partly because he has school tomorrow, but also because of the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids, but he can't bring himself to stop researching. He promised. 

He'd somehow managed to find his way home before it got completely dark, stumbling through the forest until he'd reached the front door of his house. He hadn't even gotten his key out before the door opened harshly and he was yanked into the house, caught in a bruising hug from both his brothers and his mom at once. 

Liz had scolded him, telling him how the school had called saying he'd run off, and then how he'd been gone all day. Luke sheepishly explained how he'd panicked and ran, finding a spot deep in the woods to stay until he'd realized how much time has passed. He didn't bring up the mansion; something tells him to keep quiet about that. 

His mother's gaze had softened, her hand gentle when she'd cupped Luke's cheek, quietly explaining that she'd written him a pass for the school that whenever Luke needed it, he could leave and come home. Ben had whisked him away after that, cleaning and bandaging the cuts on his face and chest. Luke hadn't even been aware of the shallows cuts until Ben had drawn notice to them. 

Now, he scrolls through the article, trying to find anything he can about the Irwin family. So far, he hasn't found anything about the abandoned mansion, or even a family member starting with the letter A that would have reason to be ripped from the book. The most he'd found was that the old Irwin couple, the one that still lived in the town to this day, had a son who'd passed away twenty years ago. 

Luke sighs, looking out his window in the direction of the old Irwin mansion. He'd vowed that he would find it. 

He's not giving up until he does.

* * *

"I'm going to head down to the library." 

Ben looks up in surprise, dropping the Xbox controller he was holding. Jack pauses their game of Fifa, leaning forward with an arched eyebrow. "You're going where?" 

Luke squares his jaw, tilting his chin down towards his chest. "The library. I need to get some books." 

Ben stands up, touching Luke's shoulder. "Do you want us to come with you?" he asks gently, looking worried. It's been a little over a week since Luke had run away from school, but his family is still treating him like he's made of glass. He supposes he hasn't given them much of a reason not to. 

Luke smiles as reassuringly as he can, trying to put his brother at ease. "I'll be alright, don't worry. I'll text you guys if something happens, okay? I'm just researching something for a school project." 

Jack looks skeptical, standing up to join Ben in front of their brother. "Are you sure? It really isn't any trouble if you want us to come with you." 

For a moment, Luke entertains the thought of letting his brothers join him, having them help him try to find out who this Irwin person is. He squashes that thought immediately, however. They'd only warn him against sticking his nose somewhere it doesn't belong, and they'd force him to stay away from the mansion. He can't let that happen. 

Luke rolls his eyes for good measure, trying to show that he's _fine_. "I'll be okay, guys, really. I'll be back soon." 

He doesn't give them the chance to say anything else, just offers them a tight smile and pushes through the front door. He knows they watch his back as he walks away, so he forces himself to walk casually and act like everything is completely alright. 

Once he's far enough away, he slips his headphones in and turns up his music, drowning out the noise of people around him. He keeps his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets, trying to make it to the library without having to talk to anyone. He can feel eyes on his back, but he doesn't turn around. He makes it to the library minutes later. 

Luke pushes open the door, offering a shaky smile to the librarian at the front desk, darting away before she can ask him any questions. 

He sighs, looking around, trying to figure out the best place to look for what he wants. He couldn't find anything on his own computer, so he doubts there will much of a change if he were to use the library computers. Old news articles might work better, given that they'll tell the stories of this town and what's happened. With that in mind, he wanders over to the cabinets filled with old newspapers. 

He remembers reading that the Irwin family had lost a son sometime twenty years ago, so he decides that as good of a place to start as any. He rifles through a few newspapers until he finds the ones that start in 1996. 

Immediately, there are a few that catch his eye. One mentions the recent passing of law from the town's council that ruled it to be now legal to be gay. Luke arches an eyebrow, unaware there was such a thing as a town council, and though he isn't sure why, he thinks this bit of information means something to his investigation. 

He scans the rest of the pile in his hands for any articles with Irwin in them, and he finds it in the last article of the pile, the headline reading _Fire at Irwin Manor_. Luke frowns, looking at the familiar framework of the abandoned mansion, except the mansion isn't burnt out. In fact, he doesn't remember any signs of there ever having been a fire. He wants to say that maybe the family refurbished the manor after the fire, but as he reads, he knows that's not the case. The Irwin family abandoned the manor after the fire, partly because it was the reason their son died. 

Something about this entire situation makes the back of Luke's neck prickle, the uneasiness that comes along with this entire thing making him feel unstable. He folds the newspaper up, slipping it into his backpack, when someone touches his shoulder. Luke startles, pulling out his headphones, glancing up at an old man he's never seen before. 

The old man smiles down at him, but there's something sinister in his eyes, an anger or darkness that makes Luke's skin crawl. He tips his head, touching his fingers to the backpack holding the newspaper article. "What are you looking at this for, boy?" 

Luke swallows, subtly slipping his chair further away from the man, hugging his backpack to his chest. This man makes him uncomfortable in a way he doesn't think he's ever felt before. There's something completely unpredictable hiding behind the innocence of the sagging skin and liver spots. "Just curious," he mumbles, scooting even further away. 

The man takes a step forward, his smile broadening. "I see. How'd you find out about that, hmm?" There's a hint of a snarl at the corner of his mouth. 

Luke huddles in on himself, trying to make himself smaller. "I just—heard about it from some kids at school." It's not the best lie, and he thinks the old man can see right through it, but he doesn't waver, doesn't back down. 

The old man hums, taking yet another step forward in a threatening way, bending a little so he can meet Luke's eyes. "You know, some people don't like the reminder of such a tragedy." He lets a hand drop to Luke's shoulder, squeezing tightly. Luke determinedly doesn't show how much it hurts. "Maybe you shouldn't go around researching it, boy. It would be a shame if something happened because of it." 

Luke quickly stands up, pleased to see he's significantly taller than the old man. "Excuse me," he says tightly, brushing past the man and hurrying from the room. As quickly as he can, he checks out the newspaper article, paranoid the old man will round the corner any second. He doesn't, though, and Luke escapes the second he can, walking as fast as he can get away with to the forest trail that will lead to the mansion. 

Once he slips through the trees, he breaks into a sprint, this time dodging all the branches that hit him last time, leaving behind barely healed white scars that join with the thicker, nastier scars on his back. Luke stumbles at the thought, but resolutely keeps going, running until he's once again at the door of the mansion. 

This time, he wastes no time with exploring, simply darting into the library and throwing the door closed behind him, leaning against it, struggling to catch his breath. His shoulder aches something awful, and he knows without looking that there will be a bruise there. 

"Crazy old bastard," he hisses, dragging in another calming breath. The room seems to inhale with his distress. 

Ignoring it, Luke all but collapses in the chair in front of the book containing the family tree. He pulls the book towards him, opening it up to the ripped out page, and then fishes the newspaper article out of his backpack. 

He blows out a breath, looking from the book to the newspaper article, trying to find some sort of connection. There isn't any, even if the newspaper had seemed like the key to his answers. 

"None of this makes sense," he mumbles to himself, dragging his thumb over the spine of the book. "Why would someone threaten me for looking up what happened to you?" 

He sighs, letting his sweater sleeves fall to cover his hands, shivering despite the sunlight shining through the window. The room warms just a touch. 

Slowly, Luke touches the ripped out edge of the page, propping his chin on his other hand. "You're important, too," he whispers to the book, gently stroking the A still left on the page. "How do I help you, though?" 

He gets an idea, looking up at all the books that line the walls. He gets up, standing in the middle of the room, looking around himself. "If I were a book on family history, where would I be?" he murmurs to himself. He thinks he hears the sound the ghostly laughter, before he shakes his head, eyes zeroing in on a spot on the bookshelves where it looks like the books had been hastily put back. Something tugs him towards that spot.

Carefully, he pushes the old bookcase ladder until it's right beside the place he wants, climbing up it as cautiously as he can. He knows it hasn't been used in twenty years, and he doesn't want it to break and fall with him still on it. He doesn't think he could explain those wounds to his brothers. 

He pushes through the books, reading their spines. To his disappointment, none of them seem to be what he's looking for, ranging from a few cookbooks to an old teen novel that looks like it's seen better days. None of the books look particularly interesting, but he pulls the teen novel from its place anyways, just to see what it is. 

The front cover is so faded he can't even read the title anymore, but he can just make out the word _Wilde_ along the bottom, and he thinks that whoever this book belonged to had great taste in books. 

He's careful when he opens it, mindful that it's old and weathered, and his heart warms when he sees that some parts of the book have been underlined and written along, annotated in the way Luke often does with his favorite books. He grins, thumbing through the pages tenderly, reading through the little notes along the margins of the page written in neat, flowing handwriting. He feels a bit of a connection to whoever owned this book. 

When he reaches the end, his eyes widen, because there in the corner on the back binding lies the words _Property of Ashton Irwin_ , written in the same handwriting as in the book. Luke's heart stutters, because he doesn't remember seeing that name in the family history. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but it's possible he's found the missing Irwin. 

He climbs down the ladder quickly, stumbling a little when he reaches the floor but still dashing for the book, skidding to a halt in front of it. Sure enough, there's no Ashton anywhere else within the book, so Luke's certain this is it. He found the missing Irwin. 

"Told you I could do it," Luke gleefully tells the book, brushing his fingers along the A. "You belong in this book, and I think I know how to fix this." 

Cautiously, he rips one of the extra pages from the back of the book, smoothing it down on the table. He grabs his favorite black pen, flipping through the pages until he has samples of how to write every letter. His grin never leaves his face as he carefully, carefully, inks Ashton's name across the page. It's a little painful how the rest of the page is blank, devoid of any picture or description, but Luke doesn't know how to fix that. He's done all he can. 

He grabs his roll of tape that he uses for his journal from his backpack, pulling off a few strips. He tapes the new pages in as neatly as he can, grinning at his handiwork. 

"Welcome back to your family, Ashton Irwin," Luke murmurs. He still doesn't know why the boy was stricken from it in the first place, but for now he's okay with that lack of information. He feels good enough as it is. 

Suddenly, the pages in the book begin to flip, spiraling through the other people within the book until it comes to rest once again on Ashton's empty page. This time, there's a little bit of writing along the bottom, something Luke's certain he didn't write. He should be scared, because this isn't normal, this isn't something that should happen, but he's more curious than anything else. He leans forward, reading the small sentence. 

_Thank you. – A_

Luke's cheeks flush, his smile bashful and shy. "You're welcome," he whispers, playing with his sleeves. He glances up at the window, seeing how it's probably been close to two hours since he left for the library. He sighs, reaching to put his things in his backpack and slip the bag on. 

He stands, welcoming the breeze that brushes against his face. "I'll be back," he promises quietly. He knows he technically has no reason to come back to this room, but he feels safe here. It'll do him good to have a safe place. 

He leaves before the room can respond. If he'd have looked back, however, he would've seen the shimmering around the book, and the pair of gold-green eyes watching him until he's out of sight.

* * *

Luke makes more of an effort to interact with his family, opting to stay away from the mansion for a little bit. He doesn't want to raise suspicions, especially with his brothers watching him like a hawk. They'll notice if he disappears for hours at a time every day, and eventually they'd figure out where he was going. He has a feeling they wouldn't really approve of where he's taken to staying. 

His mother appreciates it, he can tell. She's been worried about him, rightfully so, and she relaxes a little whenever he's within arm's length. It's easier for her to keep an eye on him when he's near her. 

They go out as a family one night, grabbing an early dinner before heading down to the park. The town's actually a lot bigger than Luke had originally thought. There's a whole bunch of familiar fast food places, as well as familiar, mainstream stores in the tiny mall. He doesn't feel quite so isolated from the world anymore. 

Luke lolls his head a little, shifting so he can rest it on Ben's shoulder, watching Jack and their mom run with one of the dogs in the park. Idly, he thinks about asking for a puppy, but he turns it down, knowing none of them are in a position to care for a dog. It's a nice thought, though. 

Ben slings a gentle arm around his waist, pulling him closer. "What's on your mind, little brother?" His voice is quiet, even, calm and collected in the way Luke's always admired. 

Luke shrugs, his shoulder bumping Ben's side. He thinks of Ashton, and the fire that had killed him, and before he can stop himself, he's blurting out the question. "Do you think Dad's okay?" 

Ben stiffens, his arms wrapping tighter around Luke, more protective. His voice is hard when he speaks, except Luke knows it's not aimed at him. "You don't have to think about him anymore, you know that." 

Luke sighs, fisting his brother's shirt in his hand. His chest aches when he sees the concerned glances his mother keeps sending his way, even if she still runs around with Jack. "I don't—" He breaks off, trying to think of the best way to articulate exactly what it is he's thinking. Finally, he just decides to try, his voice meek and so, so quiet. "I don't want to forget him, Ben. He was—he was a good dad, despite everything." 

"Despite the fact that he landed you in the hospital?" Ben says harshly, almost spitting the words. He calms down when Luke flinches, soothing his little brother's breathing, kissing the top of his head. Ben sighs, rubbing Luke's back, as gentle as ever. 

"Lu, there's nothing wrong with remembering him for what he was," he eventually says, voice a little wistful, before it hardens. "But that doesn't excuse what he did, and that doesn't change the fact that he hurt you. I will never forgive him for that. I don't think you should either." 

Luke closes his eyes, struggling to keep his tears in. Ben kisses his forehead, playing with his hair the way he used to when Luke was small, always the big brother who used to scare away all the monsters in the dark. The only monster he couldn't scare away was the one that did the damage, and Luke knows Ben will never forgive himself for letting what happened happen. It wasn't even his fault, though. Luke will never blame him. 

Jack walks up to them a moment later, Luke can tell by the labored breathing, and he thinks he must have a silent conversation with Ben, because then he's wrapping around Luke's back, cocooning him in a blanket of warmth and brotherly love. He can feel how protective his brothers are of him, and he can feel how they'd both kill and die for him. He'd do the same for them. 

"Love you guys," Luke mumbles, feeling then cuddle him closer. They're quiet for several long moments, each of them lost in their thoughts, until Ben pulls back, pulling out his phone to check the time. 

"Wanna head back?" he offers, raising his voice so that their mother can hear him from where she's walking towards them. "It's getting a little late." 

Luke nods gratefully, accepting the hand Ben uses to help him up. His brothers flank him, doing their best to cheer him up again. His chest warms, because he knows his brothers have his back, no matter what happens.

* * *

Carefully, Luke picks his way through the underbrush near the mansion, this time taking the chance to admire the beauty that's around him. The flowers are still blooming in the late spring, and the vibrant colors are absolutely gorgeous. His eyes widen when he takes in a long-stemmed white rose plant. He feels a little bad about it, but he carefully cuts one of them off, tucking the stem behind his ear. 

He sees a few animals here and there, a little squirrel running up a tree or a raven flying between bushes, but for the most part, the only sounds are the wind through the leaves and his gentle breathing. It's a little eerie, but he doesn't dwell on it. He's just trying to get to the mansion. 

He has the day off from school, his teacher being kind enough to know her students won't pay attention when the weather is this beautiful. She'd dismissed them after lunch, and Luke had immediately turned the path to the forest trail. His family are all out working right now anyways, so he has a few hours to kill. 

Just like before, he carefully lets himself into the front door, making sure not to let the door slam. Something about this place always prompts him to try to be as quiet as possible, like he'd disturb someone if he moved too loudly. Maybe he'd disturb all the ghosts, he thinks wryly, pushing open the door to the library. 

He's a little surprised to see that the room looks more worn than last time, a few books scattered along the floor and tables that he's absolutely certain he didn't leave out. He furrows his brows, stepping further into the room, scanning the shelves. His heart beats a little faster, thinking that someone else has been in this room, and that someone else could come back at any moment. 

Luke forces himself to relax a few moments later, carefully putting his backpack down. He came here to relax and feel safe, not work himself into an anxiety attack, so he busies himself pulling out his journal and pencils, curling himself on the floor in front of the low table. 

His journal is bursting, the pages barely being able to contain the paint and the things glued to the paper. He's extremely proud of it, because it's his. It's messy and unorganized but it's something that he made. It's something he did all on his own. 

He carefully opens the journal to one of the few blank pages in the very back, starting to doodle along the edges, his mind more than a little occupied. The doodles are ragged, messy like his thoughts, and he isn't surprised when some of them look more like scribbles than anything else. He's still satisfied with them. They still look like what he wanted. 

He sighs, his pencil stilling on the edge of the page. He lays his chin on the table, absently shading along the margins of the journal. Something inside him feels too heavy to really do anything. 

His eyes slip closed, the hand holding the pencil going lax. He's not tired enough to fall asleep, not at all, but he thinks he might do good for resting his eyes a little bit. He hasn't gotten much sleep the past few days, tossing and turning to nightmares and memories of things better left in the past, things they moved to get away from. His resolve not to sleep quickly crumbles, however, as it gets harder and harder to open his eyes the longer he keeps them closed. 

His last thought before he loses consciousness is that it feels like someone is watching him. 

He wakes up no more than an hour later, his back angrily protesting the extended period of time in such an uncomfortable position. His brain is still foggy with sleep, his eyes still struggling to stay open, and he blames it on the exhaustion that he doesn't immediately notice the blanket draped over his shoulders. 

It's threadbare and a little too thin, the blue fabric faded to a more green color. It's soft though, and it smells nice, and he's pleasantly warm underneath it. He probably shouldn't be this okay with finding a strange blanket over his shoulders, one he didn't put there, but his brain is hazy and his rational thoughts are still asleep. 

He barely muffles his yawn, curling up on his side on the floor, pulling the blanket so it covers him completely. His eyes slip closed again without his permission, but he doesn't immediately drift off like he thought. He stays in a sort of dreamlike state, aware of everything going on around him but too tired to react or even open his eyes. 

It's because of this that he feels it. 

Soft, slightly cold hands brush against his cheek, touching him as if he's something precious, something breakable that will fall apart at any second. The hands continue to carefully cup the back of his head, slowly raising him up to slide a soft, plush pillow under him to make him more comfortable. Luke can't quiet keep his murmur of appreciation in, snuggling deeper into the pillow and the blanket. A phantom chuckle echoes in his ears, and he should probably be afraid, but something about how gentle the hands are with him makes him know he's safe here. He's safe with whoever this person is. 

The scrape of a marker on the inside of his arm is the last thing he feels before he falls asleep again. 

(When he wakes up the second time, he immediately looks at his arm. His eyes widen at the words inked there. 

_I was hoping you would come back. – A_ )

* * *

In the weeks that follow, Luke escapes to the mansion more and more and more, until it seems he spends more time there than at his actual house. He's relieved that somehow, his family hasn't gotten suspicious yet. He knows they're just letting him be alone for a while, healing at his own pace. 

Slowly, things of his start to migrate into the mansion's library. His favorite book sits almost permanently on the small mahogany table, and a soft spare quilt from his closet stays draped over the back of the plush chair Luke's taken to sitting in. Some of his pens and markers are strewn about the room, one of his old journals laying half-abandoned under the window. The room becomes his safe haven more and more and more. 

Every time he returns to the mansion, something about the abandoned walls seems warmer and more welcoming. It no longer feels like an imposing building that welcomes no one and forces people out. It begins to feel more like a home to him, a place he doesn't have to hide or pretend. He gets the feeling it's because the house is adapting to him as much as he's adapting to the house. 

He sighs to himself one day, curled up on the window seat, his temple pressed to the cool glass of the window. His blanket is thrown over his lap, a book open in his hands. It's one of the few he's been able to find that have the _Property of Ashton Irwin_ label, and he's beginning to think Ashton has an amazing taste in literature. From Wilde to Dickens to Steinbeck to the collection of Robert Frost poems in his hand, Ashton definitely liked the classics. It's good, because Luke does too. 

A sleepy smile spreads over his lips, his thumb brushing the page as he turns it. His eyebrows furrow, however, when he takes in the highlighter over the words on the page. Now that he's looking, he can see the paper bookmark in the crease of the page, wrinkled and ripped enough that it doesn't poke out of the top of the book. 

His fingertips brush over the words, his lips trembling as he silently reads the poem. He stops when he gets to the highlighted words, his breath catching in his throat. 

"Are you dumb because you know me not, or dumb because you know?" he murmurs, his voice almost completely silent to his own ears. 

Something changes in the room, a shift in the air. It's so subtle, so small that he almost doesn't feel it, but the hair on the back of his neck stands up and he can feel the eyes on him. His skin prickles a little bit with the cold that's suddenly all around him. He doesn't understand it, until he catches sight of a blurry blob in the window. 

"The measure of the little while that I've been long away," a soft voice says from behind him, and he tenses up. The prickling in his skin increases just a bit, enough that he knows it isn't a coincidence. The blurry blob in the window gets a little closer. 

Luke's breath leaves him in a whoosh, his head pounding against his ribcage as he slowly, slowly, slowly turns around, trying to get his breathing from being too loud. He doesn't know who, or what, is in the room with him, but he has to see it for himself. 

The blurry blob isn't really a blob at all, actually, more of a hazy shape that makes Luke's breathing quicken. He can't see much, but he can just barely make out the fingers, and the legs, and the head. The most distinct thing, however, is the eyes, a deep golden hazel that still manage to not be completely in focus. Luke feels compelled to get closer, but he forces himself to stay where he is. 

He swallows, keeping his eyes on the shape's. There's something itching in his mind, trying to connect the dots. It isn't until he glances at the Irwin family book that he thinks he understands, and even then it's just a hunch. 

"Ashton?" he ventures, once again locking his gaze with the figure's. The shape's eyes widen. 

Luke bites his lip, finally giving in to the need burning under his skin. Slowly, so slowly he doesn't feel like he's moving, he stands up, inching towards the shape. The shape watches him with wary eyes, almost like a cornered animal, but Luke still feels safe enough to get close and stretch his fingers forward. He leaves a little bit of space in between himself and the shape, giving the shape the choice to touch him if it decides to. 

The shape hesitates for a few seconds, before its hand comes up and gradually closes the space between them. Luke's a little surprised that the shape isn't cold, just a little cool, and it's actually solid. Luke can touch it. 

A faint glow starts in the center of the shape, around where Luke thinks its heart should be. Luke skitters back a few steps, watching with bated breath as the glow spreads outwards slowly, licking up the shape's figure and getting brighter the more area it covers, until it seems like the entire figure is shining too brightly to directly look at. Everything else seems to dim, the sun coming through the window no longer holding any of the beauty that the shape in front of him holds. He tries not to think about that. 

The glow begins to get too bright, enough that it starts to hurt, and Luke screws his eyes shut, shrinking back. Even against his eyelids, the light gets brighter and brighter and brighter, washing the back of his eyelids a pale yellow, before suddenly it all goes dark again. 

Luke takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he might see, and carefully opens his eyes. 

He doesn't really know what he expected, but he knows it wasn't this. 

He stumbles back a few more steps, his back hitting the wall with a dull thud he doesn't really feel. His eyes are wide and his chest heaves a little bit, because right in front of him is a boy—no, a _man_ —who wasn't there before and Luke is so close to completely breaking down. 

The boy looks as shocked as Luke feels, his expression completely stunned as his somehow familiar eyes trace over his own hands. His mouth parts in awe when he carefully, carefully touches his fingertips to his cheek, a choked gasp escaping him when he encounters solid flesh. Luke bites his lip to keep his ragged breaths in, trying to keep as quiet as possible to keep the strange, beautiful boy from seeing him. 

It's a futile attempt, however, because then the beautiful boy's eyes raise to his, and he startles, jumping back slightly. He steps forward a little, staring into Luke's eyes. Luke exhales a shaky breath, trying to make the shaking in his hands less visible. 

"Can you—you can see me?" the boy asks him quietly, his voice trembling. He takes another step forward, reaching out until he's within touching distance. Luke looks down at his hand, taking a deep, shuddering breath. 

"Why wouldn't I be able to see you?" Luke's eyes are still wide with fear, his heart thudding against his ribcage. The boy bites his lip, looking at his hand. 

"I died twenty years ago," he says softly, his voice so pained Luke can feel it reverberate within his own heart. The boy flexes his fingers slowly, before he drags his eyes up to Luke's. "No one has seen me since." He stops, looking around at the room, before he quietly admits, "I couldn't even see me." 

Luke's eyes flash to the book sitting on the table, the one containing the Irwin family tree. He thinks he has an idea of who this boy is, but he's so certain it's too crazy. Nevertheless, he swallows, before he shakily asks, "What's your name?" 

The boy's eyes follow his to the book. His expression tightens for a split second before it smooths out again. "Ashton," he whispers. "My name is Ashton."

Luke's shoulders sag. He's gone crazy, he knows he has. The anxiety and the past have finally caught up to him and made him lose his mind. There's no other reason to explain that this is happening. This isn't real. 

"Thank you, by the way," the boy—Ashton?—says, breaking Luke free of his thoughts. Ashton must see the confusion on his face, because a soft smile takes over his lips, and he elaborates. "You're the one that put my name back in the book. When my dad—he's the one who took me out of it and it made me not be able to be seen. But you, you actually tried to help." He pauses, squinting at Luke. Finally, he says, "You come here a lot." 

A soft flush spreads over Luke's cheeks, and he shrinks more into the wall, this time in embarrassment. He squirms under Ashton's intense stare. "I'm sorry," he whispers, tucking his chin down against his chest. "I didn't mean to disturb you or anything. I just found this place and I didn't know there'd be anyone here and it was the only place I felt safe and—" 

Slowly, he works himself into hysterics, tears rushing to his eyes. He presses himself back hard against the wall, staring down at floor. He doesn't want to be looking at Ashton when he attacks him. 

He misses the shocked confusion that makes Ashton blink, and then the deep sadness that spreads over his face when he realizes why Luke looks so scared. He steps forward, slowly, trying not to startle the kid, and holds his hands up. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispers. Luke's head raises a fraction of an inch. "You're safe here, I promise you." Ashton takes another step forward until he's within touching distance. "Can I hug you?" 

Luke hesitates for a second, scuffing his feet, before he nods, still looking at the floor. Ashton still moves slowly, giving Luke time to pull away if he wants to, but when he doesn't, he slips his arms around Luke's waist and draws him against his chest. 

He's surprised by the fierce way Luke hugs him back, almost as if he's trying to protect one or both of them from something in the past. Ashton holds him tighter in response, a little saddened by the fragility of the boy in his arms. It almost feels like the kid will break if he presses too hard. 

He makes a vow to himself, right then, that he will do whatever it is he can to protect this kid. He refuses to let what happened to him happen to this precious boy. He's going to keep Luke safe. 

He swears it.

* * *

"Ben, do you believe in ghosts?" 

To his credit, Ben doesn't jump, even if Luke just practically materialized behind him. He just turns his head, carefully marking his place in the book he's holding before he puts it away and opens his arms for Luke. Grateful, Luke sags against his chest, hiding his face in his brother's shoulder. 

Ben takes a while to respond, his hand rubbing warm and gentle on Luke's back. "I don't know, Lu," he finally says, sounding a little thoughtful. "I guess I've never thought about it. Why do you ask?" 

Luke squirms a little, not wanting to lie but also knowing he can't tell the truth. Finally, he sighs, and just says, "We're discussing the death of the Irwin boy in class and I was just—I wanted to know if maybe he got a heaven or not." 

Ben's hand stills for a second, before he carefully pulls Luke closer and kisses the top of his head. "Yeah, buddy, I think he did," he says softly, tucking Luke's head under his chin. "I think everyone gets a heaven, don't you?" 

Luke shrugs, staring at the way his fingers fist in Ben's shirt. He knows there'll be wrinkles there when he uncurls his fist, and he knows Ben will wave him off like he did nothing wrong. "What about the ghosts, though? Why aren't they in heaven?" 

Ben sighs, though the sound is distinctly more fond than exasperated. "Well," he says, adopting the scientist voice he always used to use whenever Luke needed help with his biology homework, "I suppose there's a couple of reasons. People think maybe those people have unfinished business. Sort of, maybe they have to stay until something gets done." He pauses, looking out the window for a little bit. "The one I like, though, is that maybe this is their heaven. Maybe this is where they belong." 

Luke thinks of Ashton, with his dimples and his pretty eyes, and how sad he looks whenever he thinks Luke isn't looking. As much as he's become a part of the mansion, the mansion isn't a part of him. Luke knows, deep in his heart, that this is not Ashton's heaven. Ashton should be somewhere else, where angels sing and people dance and everything's okay. 

He doesn't realize he's gone silent until Ben nudges him, looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows and worried eyes. "You alright?" 

Luke nods his head a little too quickly. At Ben's expression, he sighs, curling tighter in on himself. Finally, he gives voice to the question wiggling in the back of his head. "Do you think I'll get a heaven after... after what happened?" 

Ben's expression softens at the same time his body tenses up. His arm tightens around Luke's waist, pulling his younger brother closer. "You're the best person in this world, bud," he murmurs, laying his lips in Luke's hair. "There's no way you wouldn't get your own heaven." 

Luke exhales shakily but nods, lapsing into silence now that his questions have been answered. He looks out the window, watching the sun as it fades out and the sky begins to darken. 

Only when the sky is completely black does he allow his eyes to close.

* * *

Ashton's waiting for him the next time he goes to the mansion. 

The ghost is sitting in the window seat Luke tends to sit in, a book open in his lap, but his eyes are on the doorway, and he lights up when Luke appears. Before Luke can even say anything, Ashton's flinging himself across the room and burying Luke in a hug. 

"I missed you," Ashton mumbles into his hair, almost crushing him against his chest. Luke's still a little shocked how Ashton is completely real, for all intents and purposes. "Don't like it when you aren't here." 

Luke giggles despite himself, his arms slipping around Ashton's waist. He lets the ghost hold him for a little bit, savoring the touch from someone who isn't one of his brothers. It's been a while since he let someone be this close to him. 

"Why are you later than usual?" Ashton asks curiously, bundling Luke towards the window seat. Luke lets himself be nudged forward, accepting the warm blanket Ashton drapes over his shoulders. It'd been unusually cold outside. 

Luke shrugs, letting one leg curl under the other and tucking his hands into his lap. "I had school," he says simply. He watches Ashton's expression twist funnily. 

"I remember school," he says, his voice taking on that wistful sadness it always does when he talks about what he experienced when he was alive. "I remember it being in a single room because of how small classes were. We only left the classroom for the bathroom and for lunch." He glances at Luke from the corner of his eye. "Is it the same?" 

Luke bites his lip, looking down at his feet, still clad in his beat up sneakers. He hopes Ashton can't see his hatred for school on his face. "More or less." His voice is quiet. "I think they added on another room but everything's—everything's the same." He pauses for a second, and then continues, quieter than before, "It's nothing like my old school." 

Ashton hums to show he's heard, but his eyes are distant. It takes him a long time to gather his thoughts, and even then, he hesitates before he asks, "Why'd you move here?" 

Luke takes a while to answer. He toes off his shoes and swings his legs onto the seat with him, pulling his knees to his chest and curling himself into a ball. He can feel Ashton's eyes on his face, but he doesn't look back when he murmurs, "My dad wasn't particularly thrilled when I came out." 

It's the only answer he can give that doesn't shed light on the scars that tear through his back, or the terrifying nightmares that still have him waking up in screams. It's the only answer he has that doesn't give away the amount of time he spent in a hospital, or why his brothers and mom still treat him like he will break. 

He chances a look at Ashton's expression, and he's surprised to see that Ashton looks stricken, his face pale and his mouth parted in shock. He's looking at Luke in horror, but something else wars on his face. It looks almost like sympathy and an old feeling of pain. 

"Are you okay?" he breathes, his hand fluttering out to grip Luke's shoulder. He looks almost desperate. "I'm so sorry, please tell me you're okay." 

Luke sucks his lip into his mouth again, searching Ashton's eyes. There's nothing but a longing to make sure Luke is actually okay, and a little bit of angry hatred that Luke thinks is directed towards his father. Taking a chance, Luke reaches out and grabs Ashton's hand, his slightly too cold skin calming Luke down enough to speak. 

"My dad was actually a good person," he begins, his voice shaky. "He was caring and he did everything he could for us. Sometimes—sometimes he drank too much and sometimes he came home drunk but it wasn't too often." He pauses, feeling Ashton's grip on his hand tighten. "He didn't really like anything that he thought was stereotypically girly or feminine. Like, if one of us—meaning me and my two older brothers—did anything he thought wasn't manly enough. One time Jack wanted to do the school musical and my dad yelled at him for it." 

"How did your mom react to this?" Ashton asks him quietly, his eyes intense. There's an almost hopeless look on his face. "Did she just sit and watch it happen?" 

Luke shrugs, letting his other hand come up to play with Ashton's fingers. "She never said anything in front of him, because even she was scared of him when he got angry, but she'd come to us afterwards and make sure we were okay. She's the one who hid that Jack did the musical anyways. She drove him there and made excuses and made sure Dad never found out." 

Ashton can sense that something bad is going to happen, so his voice drops. "What happened next?" 

The sigh that forces out of Luke sounds pained and exhausted. Ashton grips his hands tighter in response. "It just kinda continued like that for a few years. He was cool as long as we were boys and we acted like it." He stops, shifts himself around. This is the hard part. "Sometime about a year ago, I got tired of hiding. I didn't want to force myself to be someone I wasn't anymore, especially around my family. I sat them all down, even my dad, and—and I came out to them." He swallows. "My dad seemed okay with it at first. He wasn't supportive but he wasn't yelling at me or trying to kick me out. I thought I was in the clear, honestly. My brothers and my mom were so supportive and helpful that I guess I forgot to worry about my dad." 

Ashton gently untangles a hand from Luke's and reaches up to cup his cheek, thumbing away a tear Luke didn't know was there. "What did he do?" 

Luke's smile is bitter. "He went out one night, said he was going to some party for work or something, and he came home drunk beyond belief. Mom was still awake when he got home and she started yelling at him, which woke us up, and when we got downstairs Dad just stopped what he was doing and he—" Luke's throat closes around his words. 

The hand Ashton has on his cheek slowly slides down to cup the back of his neck. "Take your time, love," he murmurs. 

It takes a few minutes until Luke finds his voice again. "He threw himself at me," he whispers. He feels Ashton tense up. "Just kicking and punching anything he could reach, honestly. Ben and Jack tried to pull him off me but even when he's drunk he's pretty strong. He still had a bottle in his hand and he threw it at the wall and he grabbed one of the broken pieces and he—" Luke cuts off again and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Slowly, giving himself time to chicken out if he wants to, he turns his back to Ashton and reaches behind his head to grab his shirt, yanking it off in one quick movement. He hears Ashton gasp, but he stubbornly keeps his eyes squeezed shut. He already has his back memorized at this point, the scarring thick and puckered, multiple lacerations tearing through his skin to the point he can't feel anything on his back anymore. The nerves are gone. He can, however, feel Ashton's cold fingers trace over the scars whenever he touches an area not scarred over. 

"I was in the hospital for almost a month," Luke finally continues, his voice soft and trembling. "My back was completely destroyed. I lost so much blood that they were surprised I was even alive when I made it to the hospital. I had to get hundreds of stitches and even then they weren't sure if it was going to hold. My dad broke two of my ribs and I had a little bit of internal bleeding from how hard he hit me. I had a concussion too, and all of it combined was almost too hard on my body." He stops, tenses for a second, before he quietly says, "I flatlined twice. Once in the ambulance and once on the operating table. They almost couldn't revive me." 

Ashton is silent behind him for a few seconds, before he chokes out, _"Luke"_ , and reaches out to pull Luke back against his chest. The chill of Ashton's body sends shivers down Luke's spine but it feels good, especially when he twists in Ashton's hold to embrace him tighter. 

"My dad was arrested," Luke tells him softly, needing to see the story until the very end. "He was charged with child abuse and attempted murder and they took him away. I don't know how long, all I was told is that he was gone. My mom got the divorce papers finalized while I was still in the hospital and as soon as I was strong enough to travel, she moved us out here. This was as far away as she could find and she thought being in a smaller town would help me heal." 

Luke didn't know ghosts could cry, but he swears he feels little droplets of water hitting the top of his head, soaking into his hair. He doesn't comment on it, just lets his arms curl around Ashton's waist and tucks his nose into Ashton's neck. Here, in the library of a mansion tucked away in the forest, concealed in the arms of a dead boy, here is where he feels the safest he's felt in almost a year. 

Ashton takes a deep breath, his chest moving under Luke's head, and his voice is pained when he rasps, "My father murdered me after I came out to him." 

Luke's entire world stops. 

He pulls away as if Ashton's skin is burning, trying to find any bluff in the ghost's eyes, but Ashton just looks resigned and hopeless, his mouth screwed into a bitter frown. Tears rush to Luke's eyes as a hand claps over his own mouth in horror. 

Ashton flicks his eyes away. His voice is monotone when he speaks. "I don't know if you've noticed, but this town is and forever will be old. I haven't been outside these walls since I died but I know that it will always feel more like a town from the dark ages. Why do you think my family lived in a mansion? Why do you think everything looks like it belongs in a ghost town?" He snorts, agony slipping through his carefully placed mask. "The people are old-timey too. It's like something you'd read about in a classic novel." 

He doesn't automatically continue, so Luke carefully reaches out and touches his fingertips to Ashton's shoulder. Ashton doesn't look at him, but he seems to lean into the touch. 

"My father was a horrible man from the minute I was born. My mom only married him because her parents wanted her to. She was the most amazing woman I've ever met and it still sickens me to know she was forced to be with that vile man." The anger in Ashton is startling. "I stayed away from him as much as I could, helping my mom around the house and playing outside a lot. As I got older he didn't let me do that much. I had to step up and become the man of the house, and in his eyes spending time in the forest with my head in the clouds wasn't going to help me." Ashton rolls his eyes. Luke can't find the words to say anything. "Everything was relatively okay until I came out, because the town council had just made it legal for someone to be gay. I didn't even tell him, Luke. I told my mom and he just happened to find out somehow. I didn't even know he knew until he came storming into my room late at night when everyone else was asleep." 

The sadness on Ashton's face is overwhelming at this point. His eyes are pained and his mouth curves into a grimace and his shoulders are tense beneath Luke's grip. He hasn't looked at Luke at all during his story. 

"He was extremely homophobic. I'd always known that, which is why I didn't tell him. I knew he wouldn't like it, I just never thought he'd take such extreme measures." He spits the words out like they're poison. "He brought a knife with him that night. Gave me a chance to deny the rumors but I was tired of fighting. I just looked him in the eyes and told him I was gay and before I knew it, I had a knife in my chest and I was dying." 

Luke sucks in a breath, the tears in his eyes spilling over. Finally, Ashton turns his head to look at him, and the helplessness in his expression freezes Luke's bones. 

"It was weird," he whispers. "I was watching everything that happened as if my body wasn't on the floor and my blood wasn't on my father's hands. I was already dead and I'd already left my body. And you know what that bastard did?" Ashton snorts. It's a bitter sound. "Instead of owning up to the fact he killed me, he started a fire. Right there in my room. He pretended he'd been checking on a sound he heard and got my mother and my grandparents out of the house before everything caught fire. He told them all that the fire was what killed me. My body was so burned nobody could tell the difference, and the fire erased all evidence. I was murdered just for being gay, and my father walked free." 

"Ashton," Luke breathes, sounding as helpless as he feels. He cups Ashton's cheek, the same way Ashton did to him, and hopes his skin is enough of a comfort, because his words are gone. 

Ashton turns to fully face him, offering him a sad smile. "My mom died not too long later of a broken heart. Me and her were always really close, and when I died she lost the will to live. I was her only child and I was gone. And the worst part is that my father didn't care. He never cared about her or about me." 

Ashton sighs. "I hope you know I'm not trying to make it sound like what you went through isn't horrible. It is, and if I was alive I would find your dad and beat him to death with my bare hands. I just—I wanted someone to know the truth, and I wanted you to know you aren't alone. I may not be much, but I'm here. Any time you need me." 

Luke still feels like crying, but he manages a shaky nod. He's conflicted for a few seconds, before he moves to curl himself against Ashton's chest, hugging Ashton as tight as he can. Ashton makes a surprised sound but holds him anyways, crushing the two of them together. It's quiet for a long time, both of them too wrapped up in their own thoughts. 

They stay like that for a long time, holding each other, both a little too broken and a little too sad.

* * *

After that day, Luke and Ashton grow closer and closer, to the point that Luke considers Ashton to be his best friend. It's strange, because Luke has never been this close to anyone. He's had friends, he's had good friends, but he's never had someone who knows him and gets him the way that Ashton does. It's almost effortless, because of the fact that Luke feels comfortable talking to Ashton in a way he's only ever felt comfortable talking to Ben or Jack. 

It all comes crashing down a few weeks later.

Luke hasn't been as careful as he should be lately. He's been spending almost every day at the mansion, from the time school gets out to the time the sun sets. He knows his family is getting suspicious, but he can't bring himself to stop going. He gets nervous when he's been away from Ashton for too long. 

One day, as he's heading towards the mansion, picking through the now familiar forest, he fails to notice the two people following behind him. He fails to see them stop every few seconds, trying to keep from being seen but trying to keep him in view. He fails to see how their eyes widen at the sight of the mansion that he so readily runs towards. 

Ashton is waiting like always, standing at the window of the library looking out at the forest. He looks troubled, but the expression melts away once Luke steps into the room. The blinding smile that curves Ashton's mouth has Luke's heart racing. 

"Hey," he says happily, shedding his backpack and darting across the room to hug Ashton as tight as he can. 

"Hey," Ashton smiles back, tucking Luke's head underneath his chin. "How was your day?" 

Luke shrugs, keeping his arms around Ashton's waist, not all that eager to let go. "Pretty good. Mom made pancakes for breakfast this morning."

It's something Ashton's asked of him. He wants to know every single detail of Luke's day, no matter how insignificant Luke thinks it is. At first, Luke felt guilty. He didn't like talking about his life when Ashton didn't have one anymore, but after Ashton had begged for anything Luke would tell him, Luke caved. He thinks Ashton is trying to continue on through Luke. 

He can feel Ashton's smile pressed into his hair. "My mom used to make the most delicious pancakes in the world every Saturday morning." 

It's another thing that's come out of their heart to heart. Ashton's done his best to tell Luke everything he remembers from when he was alive. It ranges, from the woman he used to rake leaves for to the way his father treated him. Some of it's happy, some of it isn't, and some of it he can't remember, but he tries to get all of it out. 

They're so caught up in each other that they don't hear the sound of someone moving through the house, or the door opening, until a sharp gasp echoes through the silent space and someone grabs Luke's arms and hauls him away. It's terrifying, because Luke doesn't know who it is, but then he manages to whirl in his captor's arms and see the familiar lines of his brother's face. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ben thunders, his voice booming around the room, and for a second Luke thinks it's directed at him, but then he sees the glare Ben has leveled at Ashton and the way he pushes Luke behind him to square his shoulders. He takes a threatening step towards Ashton. "What are you doing with my brother?" 

Jack wraps his arms around Luke's chest, holding him back when he struggles to get forward. Ashton doesn't even flinch, just lets his chin tilt up and his hands clasp in front of him. He doesn't say anything, and that angers Ben further. 

"He's not even eighteen yet," Ben hisses, stepping forward again so that he's in Ashton's face. "You're meeting an underage kid in a burnt out shell of a mansion in the—" 

"Burnt out shell?" Luke echoes, his struggling coming to halt when he realizes what Ben's said. "What are you talking about? It doesn't look like any fire was ever here." 

Ben turns to look at him slowly, his eyes still angry but the set of his jaw a little worried. "Luke, every room in this house is gutted. There's practically nothing here." 

Luke's eyebrows furrow, his head swinging around to look at Ashton's guilty expression. "Ash? What is he talking about?" 

Ashton sighs, looking down at his feet. His curls tumble forward into his forehead, and Ben stops, staring at him in bemusement. "You see the mansion as it once was because that's what I wanted you to see. You needed a safe haven the first time you ever came here, and you wouldn't have found that in a burnt out shell." He hesitates, glancing over at Ben before he turns to face Luke completely. "I have control over this mansion, at least a little bit. I wanted to give you somewhere you'd feel safe, even for a little bit." 

Ben looks awed for a second, before his expression shifts to suspicious, and he takes another half step in front of Luke. "Who are you?" 

Ashton blinks, turning his soulful eyes on Ben. Ben inhales but doesn't look away. "My name is Ashton Irwin." 

It takes a second for that information to sink in, but once it does, Ben gasps, stumbling backwards a little bit. His mouth is parted in shock as he stares at Ashton, his hand reaching out behind him to wrap around Luke's wrist. 

He swallows, seemingly shrinking in on himself. "You're a—you're a—" 

"Ghost?" Ashton supplies kindly, his eyes unfathomably sad. "I died in this house twenty years ago." 

Ben's face pales, his eyes widening. Using the hand still gripping Luke's wrist, he starts to drag him backwards, reaching out to snag Jack's shirt when they pass. "We—we need to get out of here—" 

Panic rises in Luke's stomach at the thought of being forced to leave Ashton. He struggles, trying to get out of Ben's grip, but his older brother is stronger than him. It's no use. "Ben, no—" 

Ben's voice rises hysterically, now almost to the door. "We need to tell Mom—" 

"Ben, _please_ —" 

"I can't believe you spent time here—" 

Luke racks his brain, struggling to think of something that will make Ben stop. He doesn't think Ben will listen until Luke tells him just how important Ashton is. 

An idea strikes him, and he uses Ben's momentary fear to slip his hand out of his grip and plant himself in between his brother and Ashton. Ben sputters, already reaching for him, but Luke takes a deep breath and says as steadily as he can manage, "He's seen my back, Ben." 

The words weren't very loud, but Ben stops as if they were shouted, recoiling back in shock. He just stares at Luke, his eyes welling with tears and his lips moving slightly as he mouths silent words to himself. 

Jack takes a step forward, his hand slipping up Ben's shoulder to settle over the back of his neck. "I don't think we know the whole story," he says quietly, nodding once at Luke. He jerks his head towards the plush chairs gathered around the table. "How about we talk?" 

Luke sags in relief, the appreciation he has for his brother warming his stomach. He nods, turning and curling up in the closest chair, drawing his knees to his chest. Ashton sits in the one beside him, his fingertips subtly trailing the length of Luke's arm. 

Luke sighs, looking at his brothers. Both of their expressions have been wiped clean, carefully blank, though their eyes flick over to Ashton every thirty seconds or so. Jack is fully relaxed, almost thrown back in his chair, while Ben's hands clench in his lap, his jaw tight. 

Slowly, slightly tearfully, the story gets dragged out, each word painstakingly weighted. Ashton and Luke explain everything from the very beginning: Ashton's death, how Luke found the mansion, the events leading to Ashton's ghost reappearing. 

Ben stops them there, leaning forward in his seat. Against his better judgement, he seems to be believing what they say. "How does that make sense?" he asks, sending a leery look to the Irwin family tree still sitting on the table. "How would taking you out of a family tree do that to you?"

Ashton shrugs. Somewhere along the story, his hand has crept into Luke's, their fingers slotting together, and they never let go. "I don't know," he says, bitterly honest. "The only thing I've thought was plausible was that it erased my memory. This town is small, and I didn't interact with many people. Everyone knew me but not enough for my loss to impact them. Once my name was struck from the book, it ended my legacy, I guess. The people who knew me either died or moved away, and I guess it just made me disappear." 

Ben frowns. To everyone's shock, he leans forward, gently laying his hand on Ashton's knee. "I'm sorry," he whispers. The look in his eyes in so empathetic it hurts, and a moment of understanding seems to pass between him and Ashton. They've both been hurt by fathers that never cared enough. "I can't imagine what it was like for you." 

Ashton's hand tightens around Luke's. His expression is carefully blank when he shrugs. "He hasn't meant anything to me in a long time." None of them mention the pain they can hear in his voice. 

"Just because he doesn't matter doesn't mean that it won't hurt." Ben's eyes slide over to Luke, and they all tense for a few seconds. "Pain is pain, no matter what." 

Ashton shrugs again. "He still lives here," he spits, disgust obvious in his voice. "I'm surprised he hasn't tried to come back and finish what he started." 

And all at once, so sudden it almost hurts, it clicks. Luke gasps, his hand tightening around Ashton's, his chest locking up in fear. He's aware of his brothers shooting forward, attempting to figure out what's wrong, but all he can do is turn tear-filled eyes on Ashton. 

He remembers the man at the library, the old man that looked so innocent but had evil lurking behind his eyes. He remembers the way the man had reacted when he'd seen the article Luke had held, the article written about that fire that the public believed killed Ashton. He remembers the harsh grip the man had had on his shoulder and the bruise that had lasted for days. 

"Your dad," he chokes out, silencing the panicked curses Ben spewed out. He swallows, tightening his grip on Ashton's hand enough that his fingers turn white. "I—I didn't even think about it until now—" 

He cuts himself off, lurching to his feet and all but running to his discarded backpack, rifling through it until he finds the copy of the newspaper that he'd made, creased and worn and crumpled but still legible. Ashton meets him halfway, his hands finding Luke's hips. Luke realizes a little stupidly that he's shaking, his entire body trembling so hard he almost can't breathe. The paper clenches in his fist. 

"Luke," Ashton says urgently, knocking their foreheads together. "Luke, breathe, c'mon, breathe with me. What's going on?" 

Something that sounds suspiciously like a sob echoes from his mouth, and he pushes the paper against Ashton's chest. "Before, before I did what I did to bring you back—" His voice catches. "I—I went to the library to try and figure out what happened to you and this, this old man saw what I was doing and—" 

"No," Ashton breathes, his eyes widening in realization. "No, no, _no_." 

Luke latches on to Ashton's shirt, trying to keep Ashton as close as he can. "He grabbed my shoulder and he—he threatened me and—" 

Ashton cuts him off by pulling him into the tightest hug he's ever had, crushing their bodies together with a ferocity that Luke craves. He keeps mumbling _no_ into Luke's hair, holding him as if he'll disappear if he lets go. 

Jack touches his arm, looking at him with troubled eyes. "Luke, what did he say to you?" 

Luke sighs, keeps his cheek pressed to the base of Ashton's throat. Ashton holds him tighter in response. "He just—he said that not many people wanted the reminder that such a tragedy happened and that it would be a shame if something happened to me because of it." 

Ashton growls, his hands balling into fists in Luke's shirt. "That bastard," he hisses. 

Ben holds up a hand to silence him, and it's easy to listen to him. He's always been the oldest, always been the protector of Luke and Jack, and now Ashton is included under that care. "Is that all, Luke?" 

Luke frees one of his hands and reaches up to skim his fingers over his shoulder, a phantom pain shooting down his spine when he remembers the bruises. "He—he hurt my shoulder but other than that—" 

Ashton cuts him off by yanking the neck of his sweater down, exposing the pale skin of his shoulder. He looks stricken, his eyes tracing the flesh like he can still see the bruises, and even though they have all since faded, he lets out a choked whimper and ducks his head to press his lips to the skin. 

Ben's face is unreadable except for the fire that blazes in his eyes. Jack is the same way, his fists curled tightly together at his sides and his nostrils flared. "We're going to protect you," Jack promises, flicking his eyes from Luke to Ashton. "Both of you." 

It's quiet in the room, but Luke feels that if Ashton's heart still beat, it would be racing. He knows that his own is.

* * *

Now that Ben and Jack know about the mansion, they help Luke cover up his constant disappearance. Their mother probably thinks that Luke is the best student ever, because usually their excuses include the library of some sort, or that he's finally making friends because he's walking around the shops. If only she knew his only friend was a ghost. 

Ashton snorts at him one day, his face streaked in golden from the light of the dying sun peaking over the trees behind him. The second Luke had gotten there, Ashton had dragged them both outside, curling up on the blanket he kept in the library and watching the sun set. 

"I wonder what your mom would do if she knew about me," he muses, leaning up on his elbow. The way his body curves around Luke is completely protective. "Do you think she'd try and kill me?" 

Luke giggles, shrugging a little bit. "You won Ben over, and he was the most difficult one." 

It's true; Ben is almost as smitten with Ashton as Luke is. He's constantly asking how Ashton is doing, quietly of course, and he's accompanied Luke to the mansion a few more times. Luke knows it's just because of his insane urge to protect everyone around him, and he's so glad that now Ashton has someone who will look out for him the way that his father should have but never did. He understands this, but it still makes a little bit of jealousy unfurl in Luke's chest. 

Ashton can see it on his face, the little darkening of possessive jealousy, and a grin curls over his mouth, his eyes dancing. It's the happiest Luke thinks he's ever seen him. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite." He winks exaggeratedly, coaxing another giggle out of Luke. 

Luke doesn't reply to him, just rolls his eyes and curls back up on the ground, his head tilted in Ashton's direction. He's pleasantly lazy, the sun warm on his skin and his eyes slightly heavy with sleep. He lets them flutter shut, embracing the peaceful feeling in the air, something he doesn't think he's felt in a very long time. 

It's quiet for a long time, the only sounds being their gentle breathing and the wind through the trees. Luke can feel himself starting to nod off, the sleepiness starting to overwhelm him. 

He manages to wake himself back up, however, when he feels Ashton's fingertips slowly trace over his forehead to his temple, playing with the little baby hairs there. Luke blinks open his eyes to find Ashton with a tender expression on his face, his eyes warm. 

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles, tracing his fingers down the slope of Luke's nose, his touch so so gentle. His skin is slightly cold in a way that makes a delicate shiver run down Luke's spine, but it's pleasant. "I never thought I'd meet anyone who could be this gorgeous." 

His touch is reverent, like Luke is the most precious thing he has ever seen in his entire life. He trails his fingertips over Luke's eyelid, in the hollow beneath his eye, down over his cheekbone to gently brush against the line of his jaw. Then, oh so hesitantly, his thumb swipes over Luke's bottom lip. Luke's mouth parts on instinct. 

The air goes still around them for a second, as if the entire world is holding its breath for them. Ashton is frozen, his palm still pressed to Luke's jaw, his breath coming slighter harder than it had before. Luke's about to push himself up, ask what's wrong, when soft lips cautiously press to his own. 

He's shocked into stillness, his brain immediately going haywire, so jumbled up he can't think. He's never been kissed before but if this is what it's like he never wants to stop. Ashton's lips are soft and gentle and so so careful and he likes it, he really likes it. 

All too soon, Ashton abruptly pulls away, the corners of his lips pulled down and his eyes troubled. He looks anywhere but at Luke when he mumbles, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." 

Luke realizes, a little stupidly, that he never kissed back, that he sat there and stayed still and probably made it seem like he didn't want the kiss. It's easily remedied by him slipping his hand around the back of Ashton's neck, pulling him down just far enough that their lips brush when he whispers, "Kiss me again."

This time, Ashton's kiss is surer, more confident. His elbow braces beside Luke's head, his thumb stroking gently over Luke's cheek, his tongue just barely teasing Luke's bottom lip. He tastes so fresh and clean, something that Luke doesn't think he'll ever get enough of. In the months he's known Ashton, and in the months he's harbored a secret crush, he never imagined this would happen. He never thought he'd get to have this. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a niggling little voice whispers to him, _This won't last._

Somewhere in the depths of his darkest thoughts, a taunt rises, _Everything is about to go wrong._

Somewhere deep in his chest, something in his heart shatters.

* * *

The weather steadily begins to get warmer and warmer, the sun peaking through the ever present clouds that always blanket the town. It's getting to the point that Luke can't comfortable wear his sweaters anymore, something that makes him sad. Ben has to take him out shopping for at least some sort of summer clothing. 

They're just fucking around mostly, pointing out things in the windows that makes them giggle. Jack had opted to stay home and watch a football game, and their mother had taken a weekend trip into the city for business. It's only Ben and Luke right now, something that Luke is immensely grateful for. 

"So," Ben begins, casually, leafing through some short sleeve shirts on a rack. Luke stops what he's doing to listen. "How's Ashton?" 

Immediately, Luke's face burns bright red, a giddy smile tugging at his lips. He ducks his head, trying to hide from Ben, but his brother knows him better than he knows himself. 

Ben laughs, slipping an arm around his shoulders. "Did you finally tell him about your giant crush on him?" When Luke looks at him in surprise, Ben grins, ruffling his hair. "Lu, you were so obvious. There's no way Jack and I wouldn't figure it out." 

Luke's grin threatens to split his face, his cheeks still red but the look in his eyes nothing less than adoring. "He kissed me," he mumbles, only loud enough for Ben to hear. "And I don't know what we are but we're... something." 

Ben's lips turn up in a soft smile, his expression fond and slightly amused. "I'm glad, man. He's made you a lot happier in the past few months, I can tell." 

Luke's blush deepens. "Thanks, Ben," he mumbles, turning his head away to try and calm down a little bit. 

In doing so, his eyes catch with those of a man standing on the other side of the store. The man isn't even shopping, he's just staring directly at Luke with black eyes that blaze and lips that hold a subtle snarl. Luke's breath whooshes out of him, his chest tightening, because he knows this man. He knows the anger behind him. 

"Ben," he hisses, never taking his eyes from the man's. "Ben, that's him." 

Ben looks up sharply from the shirt rack he'd been going through, following Luke's line of sight. He stiffens when he sees the man. "Luke," he says urgently, slipping a subtle arm around Luke's waist. "Is that—" 

"Ashton's father," Luke breathes, just as the old man starts to make his way over to them, his hands clenched into fists. Luke squeaks in terror, ready for a confrontation, but Ben, who has always been better at thinking on his feet, grabs his hand and starts pulling him away. Luke stumbles before he rights himself. 

"I wish I could punch that bastard," Ben growls lowly, weaving through the racks to get to the exit. "After all he's done to Ash and now what he's done to you—" 

They manage to slip out the store without being stopped, and Luke almost thinks they're in the clear, until a bony hand grabs his wrist and tightens to the point his hand goes numb. He knows who it is without turning. 

"You look familiar," the man drawls, his voice almost a purr. His eyes are hard and mean. "Have I seen you before?" 

Luke's heart is pounding so hard he's almost positive it'll crack his ribs and burst through his chest. He's so scared, but Ben is better at these situations, and his protective instinct kicks in. 

"I'm sorry, can we help you?" Ben says tightly, stepping forward so that he's in between Luke and Ashton's father. The way he stands is subtly protective. 

The man glowers up at him, his lip curling up. "I thought I'd seen him before." He turns his attention back to look, his dark eyes absolutely murderous. "You're the kid from the library, aren't you?" 

Luke's breath catches. For some reason, all he can think of is Ashton, alone in the mansion his father murdered him in. It makes something boil in his veins, and all he wants to do is scream to the world that this man is dangerous and evil. He won't, because he knows how it'll turn out, but he wants to. 

Ben squares up to his full height, plastering on a pleasant smile even when his eyes are filled with so much hatred. "We have no idea what you're talking about. Will you please let go of my brother now?" 

The man's face flashes with surprise, before he glances down at the wrist he still holds in a death grip. Luke can already feel the bruises forming. "Right, of course," he says. 

Ben nods to him curtly, turning Luke around and starting in the other direction. Neither of them look back at the man they can feel burning holes into the back of their heads. 

Ben doesn't say anything on the way back to the car, and still doesn't talk once they're in it. His expression is thunderous and a little bit terrifying, but Luke knows it's not directed at him. 

Finally, once they're close enough to the house, Ben breaks the silence. "Go inside and pack a backpack of clothes and things you might need for a couple of days," he says tightly, his blazing eyes never moving from the road. "You're staying with Ashton until that I figure out a way to deal with that bastard that calls himself Ashton's father. I don't want him hurting you." 

"Wouldn't he be able to find me easier if I'm at the mansion?" Luke asks, confused. "He knows that's where Ashton is. It's the first place he'd look." 

Ben shakes his head, pulling into their driveway. "He can protect you better than I can. He's been doing it for months. Besides, he knows his father better than we do. He'll know what to do." 

With that, Ben pushes him out of the car and into the house, shoving him in the direction of the stairs. Just as Luke runs up them, he can hear Ben filling Jack in on what's going on. 

It's a blur from then on. All Luke remembers is stuffing clothes into his bag and briefly staring out the window to the mansion. Jack and Ben are the ones to lead him out of the house from the back door and escort him down the forest path. All the while, no one talks. 

Ashton's waiting for them at the front door, his eyes wide and worried. He catches Luke when he throws himself at him, rubbing his back carefully as Luke's breath quickens. "What's going on?" he asks quietly. 

Ben sighs, handing him Luke's backpack. "Me and Luke ran into your father today," he says, his next words dripping in venomous sarcasm. "Nothing unusual, just grabbed Luke's wrist and threatened him again. Completely normal, acceptable behavior." His words are biting. 

Ashton stiffens, the arms around Luke's waist tightening to the point it almost hurts. "Why did you bring him here, Ben? This is the first place my father will look. Take him _home_ —" 

"He followed us home," Ben cuts him off. "He followed us home and he's parked on the other side of the street because he's a bastard and wants to hurt you even more. Luke is safer here with you than he is with me. You know how to protect him better than I do." 

For a moment, no one speaks. If Luke were to look up, he'd see Ashton in shock, staring at Ben with lips parted. This is Ben giving up his status as Luke's protector, even for just a moment. This is Ben promising that he trusts Ashton, that he knows Luke is safe with him. The sentiment of the situation makes something in Luke's chest tighten. 

"Thank you," Ashton whispers, his voice choked. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make sure he's safe." 

None of them comment on the sudden weight over their heads. The silence of the house presses in on all sides. 

Luke doesn't know if they'll be able to get through this.

* * *

He slinks through the undergrowth of the forest, edging his way down the worn path. He hasn't taken this path in years, not since directly after the fire to ensure what he'd done was final. 

He stills remembers where he's going, his feet taking him exactly where he needs to go. He pays no mind to the way the forest quiets as he walks by, as if they know the ill-intentions in his heart and the darkness clouding his mind. 

The mansion is as old and decrepit as he left it, its sagging walls overrun with vines and moss and its once beautiful exterior completely worn down. A rush of cold satisfaction fills him when he remembers he did that. 

He's quiet as he walks towards the mansion, careful not to be seen or heard. It will ruin his plan if he does. 

Slowly, he walks around the back of the mansion, stopping just where he knows the library windows can see. Then, he steps towards the wall and picks his way until he's directly next to the window. He can already hear the voices inside. His blood boils when his son's voice reaches his ears. 

Peeking around the edge of the window, he barely manages to keep in his snarl when he sees that disgusting little bastard curled up in the arms of his equally as disgusting son. They're talking, but the boy kisses his son and it feels like he will crush the bricks with how hard he's gripping them. 

Tomorrow his plan will be put in action, he vows, staring at the cuddling boys. Tomorrow both of them will die, and Ashton will finally pay for his sins. 

He will make sure of it.

* * *

Ashton sighs, tearing his gaze away from the book he's been staring at for hours now, even after the sun had gone down and he'd resorted to the flickering lights of the candles. He'd hoped that reading would distract him from the danger looming over their heads, but nothing has helped. 

In his arms, Luke shifts slightly, a small whimper leaving his lips when his back cracks. He can't be comfortable, not squished the way he is against Ashton's body, but he'd fallen asleep an hour before and hasn't woken up yet. Ashton hope he stays asleep for a while. He needs it. 

He's terrified, to be honest. He knows the horror his father can do. He knows how ruthless the man is, and the thought of all of that danger now on Luke's head... He wishes this was all a sick dream. 

Luke whimpers again, his eyebrows furrowed in distress, most likely from an unpleasant dream and the uncomfortable position he's in. Carefully, trying not to wake him, Ashton shifts until he's lying back a little bit more, Luke draped over his chest in a grounding way. Luke relaxes into it, rubbing his cheek over Ashton's shirt in his sleep. Ashton's bones completely melt with the fond pouring through him. 

Not for the first time, he thanks whoever is watching over them that the beautiful boy in his arms walked into his life. Luke saved him completely, and there's nothing Ashton wouldn't do for him. Nothing. He's belonged to Luke from the moment he first saw him, standing at the edge of the Irwin property with shallow cuts up his arms and face, his eyes wide and crazed and his hands trembling. Ashton had thought he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, even with all the rips he could see around the edges. Luke has dealt with a lot, he's seen so many horrors in his short life, and Ashton is determined to keep him safe and happy for as long as Luke will allow him to. 

Distantly, he hears a rock clatter somewhere in the house, and he freezes, straining to hear anything else. The house is as silent as ever, but something feels off. If Ashton's heart was still beating it would be pounding away in his chest. 

Carefully, he shifts Luke until he can pull out from underneath him, seizing at the desperate whimper Luke lets out. He wants nothing more than to bundle him up again, but he has to make sure his father isn't there. He refuses to be a sitting duck and wait for the attack. 

He throws a blanket over Luke quickly, tucking him and pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. Quietly, he slips out, making sure the door is locked and sealed behind him. There is no way his father will get in. 

He hears another rock clatter not too far from the library's door, so he quickly moves toward it, keeping to the shadows and making sure his footsteps are silent. He refuses to let his father know he's coming. 

However, each room he steps through is as empty as it always is, all of the floors wiped clean of any footprints. He's beginning to think he's being paranoid when a hand grabs his shoulder and a voice whispers in his ear, "Going somewhere, Ashton?" 

He immediately goes still, fighting the urge to retch at the feeling of his father's breath brushing his skin. "Anywhere away from you," he says tightly, proud of the way his voice doesn't shake. He sends a quick prayer for the boy still asleep in the library. 

His father tuts, tightening his grip on Ashton's shoulder. Ashton holds back his wince. "Is that any way to speak to your father?" he taunts, finally stepping away and walking around him to look Ashton in the eye. Ashton spares a quick thought of petty smugness that he's always been bigger than the man. 

"It is when he's the one who murdered you," Ashton hisses, narrowing his eyes at the man in front of him. His fingers itch to punch him in the face. 

The man's eyes flash, his teeth clenching. "It was the fire that—" 

"Bullshit," Ashton roars, stepping forward into his father's face. The house rattles around them in response to his anger. He squares to his full height, nearly a foot above the man who dares call himself his father. "You murdered me," he growls slowly, feeling his fingers start to go numb from the anger taking over him and pulling his corporeal form out of his control. "You stabbed me simply because I was gay and you didn't like that. And then you tried to cover your tracks with a fucking fire. You killed my mom too, did you know that? She only died because I was dead and she couldn't handle that. But you," he shakes his head, "you didn't care about her at all, did you? Just like you didn't care about me." 

The man had been silent the entire time Ashton spoke, but now his mouth curls into a smirk, his eyes focusing on something beyond Ashton's shoulder. "I believe I am not the worst of your problems," he whispers tauntingly. 

Ashton turns his head, expecting to see something horrible, but instead he finds nothing at all. However, the second he isn't paying attention to his father, he's pushed away and forced onto his knees. Something in his chest rattles with the force. 

He feels rather than sees his father crouch behind him, shivering at the words whispered into his ear. "How's it feel, Ashton? To know that your boy will die for your sins?" 

All at once, Ashton understands. He played directly into his father's trap. He left Luke alone and came to investigate the noise he'd heard and fell for the trick his father had flashed before him. His eyes take in the slickness to the floor, the puddles of what he knows isn't water that lead directly to the door to the library, where Luke is currently locked into. 

"No," he chokes out, struggling against the hold his father has trapped him in. _"No!"_

The cruel man laughs, tightening his grip on Ashton's arms. "This will be so much sweeter than your death was," he coos, stroking Ashton's cheek. From his pocket, he pulls out a lighter, its plastic covered in smiley faces that make Ashton sick to his stomach. His smile is wicked and evil as the flame sparks in his hand. 

Somehow, the lord in all his kindness grants Ashton the strength to tear himself out of his father's grip. He stumbles to his feet, rushing forward to try and unlock the library door so Luke can get out and be safe. He hears a growl behind him seconds before a body slams into his, throwing him to the ground He'd forgotten how deceptively strong his father was, he thinks dazedly, struggling even more now. 

His father's teeth gnash in the space next to his ear. "You will watch him burn, and you can do nothing to stop it. You are _dead_ , you monster, and soon he will be too." 

Ashton watches in frozen horror as the lighter falls from his father's hand to the ground below, immediately sparking the gasoline poured all over the wood. The fire that rages is angry and roaring, eating along the trail of gasoline until the door to the library itself is blazing. 

_"Luke!"_ Ashton screeches, struggling in vain to get to the door. His father does nothing to stop him, laughing cruelly as he races through the flames. He can't feel anything except horror, though he knows the flames can't hurt him. Not like they can hurt Luke. 

He's just barely managed to get the door unlocked when he hears the screams from inside. 

However, he's once again pushed to the side by his father, and when he rolls onto his back, coughing at the smoke filling his lungs, he sees that his father's eyes are wide and deranged, his features edged into the most terrifying smile Ashton has ever seen on him. 

"This is the pain you brought to me," he screams, spit flying from his mouth. His hands look more like claws. "You ruined this family! You tore us apart!" 

Something inside Ashton snaps, and he's able to push himself up, glaring at his father as he does. "No," he whispers, barely able to be heard over the roaring flames. " _You_ did." 

The manic look on his father's face does nothing to stop him as he runs forward, pushing the old man back until he stumbles and falls, directly into the flames raging behind him. Ashton feels no ounce of remorse at all as his father's body goes limp, blood mixing with the smell of smoke as the fire consumes him. 

"Goodbye, father," Ashton spits, and a tingling starts just below where his heart once beat, deep in his chest. He has no time to focus on it, however, because the flames are spreading and he can feel the pain of it now. He spares a quick thought as to why that is before he tears into the library. 

"Luke!" he shouts, his vision blurred by the smoke and his voice going raspy. "Luke, where are you?" 

Just above the crackling, he hears a small croak. He dives towards it, tearing through the burning wood and ignoring the pain that flashes through him when his skin is burnt. Nothing matters to him except getting to Luke. 

"I'm coming Luke, don't worry!" he yells, barely managing to dodge out of the way before one of the beams collapses. "I'm gonna get you out of here!" 

Finally, finally, he clears the way to the spot where he'd left Luke, and somehow his heart thumps in relief when he finds him alive. He's burnt slightly, and coughing, and he looks like he's about to keel over, but he's _alive_. 

"Ashton," he croaks, reaching for him with hands that tremble. Ashton's quick to scoop him up, running for the library window. They can't go back the way they came. Ashton just hopes they're strong enough to make it back to civilization. 

The crash of the glass around them is nothing compared to the fire, so slight he barely feels it when the glass tears at him. He curls around Luke as best he can, hoping he doesn't get hurt even more. 

Sparing one last glance at the burning ruins of what used to be his home, he takes off into the forest, running as fast as his tired legs can carry him. His arms ache and his lungs scream at him to stop and black blurs around the edge of his vision, but he refuses to stop. Not when Luke's breathing is ragged and his eyes are closed. Not when he can feel his heartbeat starting to weaken. 

He nearly screams in relief when he crashes through the trees into Luke's yard, hurtling up the steps and banging on the door. It's late, he knows that, he knows that Luke's family has to be asleep, but he prays to whatever god will hear him that they open the door. They're so close, he and Luke are so close, help and safety is just a breath away. 

The door opens, and he doesn't even look to see who it is as he croaks, _"Help"_ before his eyes roll back in his head and the darkness over takes him.

* * *

For a long time, Luke floats. 

The darkness around him is comforting. It holds him and soothes him and keeps him company, and he likes it here. There's no pain, no anger or sadness. For the first time in a long time, his chest is completely loose and his heart is steady. At the same time, however, there's no joy, no love or beauty. All he feels is the darkness, all he sees is the darkness. 

Sometimes, he thinks he hears voices. They sound like Ben, and Jack, and sometimes his mom, but the second he focuses on them they disappear. The pressure in his lungs increases until he finally gives up and lets the darkness drift him away and further down. 

One day, an immeasurable amount of time later, he thinks he feels something flicker where he thinks his heart should be. He's far enough down in the darkness that there's no pain, but he knows there should be, because he thinks he hears screaming. He thinks he hears something that sounds like a droning beep, something that sounds like a charge. Electricity courses through his veins, drawing him out of the darkness a little bit, and the pain returns little by little. 

He doesn't like it. He doesn't want this. He wants the pain free darkness, even if there's no happiness. Anything is better than this. 

More electricity runs through his veins again, and he rises up farther and farther. This close, he thinks he sees a little light, and suddenly he thinks that he hasn't been in darkness at all. He's been in water this whole time, and the light is the surface. 

Something inside him leaps at the thought, and he pushes towards it without realizing what he's doing. He kicks with all his might, but nothing he does is working. 

The electric current that hits him is the harshest one he's felt so far, and it's like someone reached into the water and yanked him up to the surface. His head breaks the water and his eyes fly open, his mouth working as he struggles to get air in, his back arching off the table. 

He's not strong enough to stay awake, and his eyes roll back into his head again. The waves of water come back over him, but this time he stays in the shallows. 

If he strains his ears, he can just barely make out the sound of a rhythmic, steady beeping.

* * *

He wakes up a few days later. 

The first thing he notices is the pain. It shoots up and down his chest, through his lungs. His hands throb and his eyes sting but it's almost welcome after the numb feeling of the water. 

The second thing he notices is that he isn't alone. His mom is curled up in the window seat not too far away from him, her head resting on the wall in a position that can't be comfortable. Jack is leaned over the bed on his left, his hand gripping Luke's ankle and his brow furrowed. Ben occupies his right side, holding his hand so gently Luke barely feels it. 

He realizes, a little stupidly, that he's in a hospital, and that the rhythmic beeping he heard earlier is his heart monitor. 

He must've moved when he woke up, because Ben stirs a little bit, his eyes just barely slanting open. He shoots up, however, when he sees Luke awake. 

"Oh my god," he mumbles, standing up so fast his chair toppled backwards. Both Jack and his mom stir out of sleep. "Oh my god!" 

Someone must've pushed the call button, because doctors and nurses bustle into the room, shoving his family aside and bending over him with flashlights and sharp things. He's still fuzzy, still floaty, but the only thing on his mind is Ashton. 

He manages to turn his head to look at Ben, fuzzily noticing the tears streaking his big brother's cheeks, and mumbles Ashton's name. He feels like his mouth is stuffed with cotton balls, but Ben hears him, because he gives a watery laugh and says, as clearly as he can manage, "He's okay, Lu. He's okay. Just get some rest, okay bud? You can see him when you wake up." 

Luke clings to that promise like a lifeline as the water takes him under again.

* * *

He's a lot more lucid the next time he wakes up. 

This time, it's only Ben in the room when his eyes blink open, and his brother is quick at his side once he sees Luke awake. 

"Hey, bud," he whispers, sitting at the edge of the bed near Luke's hip. "How're you feeling?" 

Luke peers up at him blearily, his hand twitching on the bed spread. "Tired," he croaks. "Pain. Thirsty." 

Ben gives something that sounds like a sob and a laugh at once, reaching for the ice chips next to Luke's bed. "You slept for a long time, buddy," he says carefully, spooning a few of the chips into Luke's mouth. 

The water is blessed on his throat, the cold seeping down into his chest and helping with the burning of his lungs. "How long was I out?" 

Ben's mouth twists funnily, his eyes darkening. "A little over two weeks," he murmurs, reaching up to carefully brush some of Luke's hair from his forehead "We—we didn't know if you'd be okay or not." Something passes over his expression. 

Luke closes his eyes, blowing out a breath that makes his lungs ache. "What's the damage?" he asks tiredly, peeking open an eye to watch Ben's expression. 

Ben sighs, brushing his thumb over Luke's cheek. "A few broken ribs, some second degree burns on your hands and chest, slight smoke damage to your eyes, and some major smoke damage to your lungs. They think you'll make a full recovery. You have to be here for a little longer, but I promise bud, the second you're discharged I'm getting you out of this town." 

At first, happiness blooms in his chest, but it's dulled by terror that makes the heart monitor go crazy. "No," he says desperately, trying to sit up and crying out when his ribs protest angrily. "No, no Ben we can't!" 

"Woah, buddy, calm down!" Ben pushes his shoulder back down, looking at him with gentle eyes. "Luke, there's nothing left for us here." 

"But what about Ashton?" Luke wails, turning pleasing eyes on his brother. He can't leave Ashton behind, not after everything. He can't let Ashton be abandoned again. 

Ben's mouth twitches into a smile, his eyes brightening up considerably. "He's going to be coming with us, Lu." He turns his head, looking towards the door, and calls out, "Ashton, get in here!" 

The door creaks open slowly, as if the person on the other side had been there waiting for the go ahead the entire time, and Luke's heart speeds up again when Ashton's head pokes into the room. He slips in as carefully as he can, and Luke's eyes fill with tears at the sight of him. 

He's banged up, very obviously, though Luke doesn't stop to wonder how he's injured. A bruise mars the entire left side of his face, still such a dark purple that Luke is scared to know what it looked like when it was fresh. His arm is covered in bandages down to his wrists, his hands uncovered but raw and red. He's in a thin white shirt, just like Luke, and the bandages he can see wrapped around his chest are most likely for the same reason as Luke's are. 

"Hey, baby," Ashton murmurs, coming to a stop just beside Luke's bed. His smile is gentle and his eyes gleam beneath the fall of his hair. He looks happier than Luke has ever seen him. 

Luke is struck silent for a few seconds, so impossibly relieved to see him okay. Then, he tries to sit back up again, panic coursing through him as he shoots glances at the door. 

"What are you doing here, you idiot?" he hisses, wanting to push Ashton's chest but the pain stops him. "You're in a hospital! Do you even understand how many people here could realize you're a ghost?" 

To his surprise, Ashton just laughs, shaking his head fondly. "Luke, it's fine. There's nothing to worry about." 

Luke glares at him, finally managing to sit up a little bit, ignoring the burning ache through his chest. "Yes it is! Do you even realize what they'd do to you? They'd take you away! They can't do that, you can't leave me, you can't—" 

Slowly, Luke's worked himself into hysteria, the heart monitor beeping even faster than it was before. It's a miracle no staff has burst in to make sure he isn't dying, but no sooner has he thought that does a nurse bustle in, hurrying to his heart monitor. She glares at Ashton and Ben as she looks at the readings before she turns gentle eyes on Luke. 

"How're you feel, love?" she asks, switching to checking his vitals and ensuring his IV is still secured. He doesn't take his tear filled eyes off of Ashton. 

"I'm good," he chokes out, aware he sounds like he's crying but doing nothing to stop it. His hand twitches in an attempt to get closer to Ashton. 

The nurse sighs, looking back and forth between him and Ashton, before she finally turns back to look at Ben. They talk quietly for a little bit, too low for luke to hear them, but he doesn't care, because Ashton's hand slides into his and he leans over Luke, his eyes the only thing Luke can see. 

"Baby, I'm not going anywhere," he promises softly, stroking Luke's cheek with his thumb. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid." 

He doesn't let Luke answer before he gently grabs Luke's right hand, mindful of the few bandages, and presses Luke's palm to the center of Ashton's chest. Luke's confused for a moment, not understanding what's going on, but then he feels it. 

The slightly irregular beating under his hand. 

His breath stops, tears gathering in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks. His mouth parts in surprise, and without meaning to, he presses his hand harder to Ashton's chest, desperate to feel the beat that means that somehow, by some miracle, Ashton's alive. 

"I don't know," Ashton says honestly, responding to the question Luke knows is blazing on his face. "I think it might have something to do with the fact that I—that—that my father is dead." He says the last part quietly, his head bowing, and Luke's heart aches to know that after everything Ashton's father has put him through, he still feels guilty over his rightful death. 

Ben clears his throat from behind them, watching them with knowing eyes. "I have a theory," he begins, adopting the voice he uses when he's explaining one of the big science things he's studying. Ashton rolls his eyes but seats himself on the edge of Luke's bed, turning so he can see Ben's face. "I think what you did, killing your father like that," he doesn't stumble over the words, though Ashton still winces, "especially in the fire, I think it righted what was wrong. You weren't meant to die all those years ago, Ashton. He took your life from you when you still had some to live. You took it back." 

Ashton's quiet for a long while, his eyes dimming and his throat working as he tries to come up with some sort of response. In the end, all he can say is, "My father—" 

"Was a wretched man," a new voice breaks in, and Luke peers over Ashton's shoulder to see his mother in the doorway. Her expression brightens when she sees Luke awake, hurrying over to him and kissing his forehead. 

Ashton turns to her, and Luke notes vaguely that he doesn't look shocked by her presence, nor she his. They look comfortable enough with each other that Luke guesses this isn't their first meeting. 

"How—" Ashton clears his throat, glancing down before speaking again. "How did you know my father?" 

Liz shrugs, one of her hands slipping into Luke's and squeezing, the other going to Ashton's shoulder. "I worked with him once or twice on a few projects around town. He did his best to seem like a great man but I saw right through him. I saw too much of my ex-husband in him, and it—" She breaks off, her eyes flashing towards Luke. He knows all of them are imagining the scars on his back. He can barely hold off a shudder. "It made it so I couldn't trust him," Liz finishes, a lot quieter than before. 

Luke squeezes his mother's hand, reaching out to grip Ashton's shirt with his other. He doesn't miss the way his mother's eyes follow the movement fondly. "I assume you've already met Ashton," he says, rather bluntly. Ashton tenses under his grip. 

His mother nods, glancing between the two of them. "Once or twice, yes." 

Luke swallows. "And how exactly—" 

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand. Her words are light but her eyes have taken on a hardness Luke can't explain. "I wake up to someone pounding on my back door at 3 in the morning and I open it to find a half-dead boy carrying my half-dead son. I hear from my other two sons that this boy is _dead_ , and that his father—the one who _murdered_ him—could be the reason I lose my youngest. Imagine my surprise when we get to the hospital and I find out the boy who brought my son back to me is not only alive now, but is some kind of something with my child." She tilts her head to the side. "Wouldn't you like to meet that boy?" 

It's silent for a few seconds, before Luke throws back his head and laughs, ignoring the pain it brings. Ashton looks at him uncertainly, raising an eyebrow, almost as if he's asking if Luke has lost his mind. 

After a few minutes, Luke manages to calm himself down, tugging on Ashton's shirt until he manages to get Ashton to lean back next to him, carefully shifting until he can lean his head on Ashton's chest with minimal pain. "So," he asks, glancing from his mother to Ben to Jack, who'd come in to the room without anyone noticing, "what happens now?" 

Ben leans his elbows on his knees, a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. "We leave," he says simply. "All we have to do is get the proper identification for Ashton—I have some friends for that back home, Mike and Cal will take good care of him—and then we get the hell out of here. There's nothing keeping us here anymore." 

Luke nods, before a thought strikes him, something he thinks he should have thought of when he first woke up. "What'll happen with the mansion? Or the body? Does anyone know about what really happened to Ashton?" 

Ashton tenses for a short second before he slowly relaxes, tilting his head to kiss Luke's hair. "The police went back to the mansion and looked through what was left. Apparently they managed to find his body, or what was left of it anyways, and the lighter was still in his hand so it was easy to pin it on him. As for me…" He shakes his head. "I don't think anyone's put two and two together, but then again, it's a little far fetched. A few of the nurses told me I bear a striking resemblance to a boy they used to know, but other than that, we're in the clear." 

Luke breathes out a sigh of relief, turning his face into Ashton's neck, letting his eyes close. Without the conversations to concentrate on, his exhaustion hits him full force, and he can't quite keep his yawn in. Ashton laughs softly, smoothing his fingertips up Luke's spine. 

"You're still healing, you need to get some more sleep," he whispers, pressing his lips against Luke's temple. "I'll be here when you wake up. We can talk more later." 

Luke can't even respond before sleep overtakes him again.

* * *

Luke's forehead is cold, pressed against the unforgiving glass of the window. Rain patters the other side, sliding down the glass in thick droplets. Ben's music plays softly over the sound. 

Luke can't really describe the way he's feeling. He's healed, physically, his wounds little more than pink scars that he was assured would fade more as time went by. He can breathe without pain from both his lungs and his ribs, and even the inhaler he'll likely have to use for the rest of his life isn't all that bad. 

A slightly cold hand slides along the back of his neck, chapped lips pressing against his skin just above the collar of his shirt. He turns his head slightly to press his nose into Ashton's hair and inhales, delighting in the sharp scent of cologne and ink, plants and sky that make up Ashton. 

"I don't have any pennies," Ashton murmurs in his ear, his breath wonderfully warm, "but I'll give you a kiss for your thoughts." His voice is completely cheeky.

Luke laughs quietly, sparing a quick glance at Jack, sitting on Ashton's other side. He's asleep with his headphones in, so Luke feels comfortable sliding his hand along Ashton's cheek and gently pressing their mouths together. Ashton hums against his lips, pulling him closer. 

Luke pulls away with a smile, brushing some of Ashton's curls from his forehead. He shrugs. "Just thinking about how everything is different now, s'all." 

Ashton's smile turns slightly darker, his eyes slightly sadder. "It's a weird thing, isn't it?" he agrees, dipping his head to kiss Luke's shoulder. "I think it'll be good for us, though," he says with his head still tilted down, his words just loud enough for Luke to hear. His hand slides into Luke's. "We'll finally be able to heal." 

_Yes_ , Luke thinks. _We will._

Neither of them will ever be the same, not after everything. There are times Luke gets lost in his own head, lost in the memories of pain and blood and fear. There are times Ashton's eyes darken and look tormented, his hands shaking as all he remembers is a knife and fire and loneliness. Luke thinks they will always be haunted by what happened to them. 

They'll heal, though. Luke knows they will. They have each other, and Ben and Jack, and Luke's mother, and the friends Ben has that he's promised will love them. They'll have a quiet place to live, somewhere that both of them will love, and they've briefly discussed some sort of therapy. Luke isn't too sure on that, but he thinks it could work. He thinks that everything could be okay again. 

As the rain slowly stops outside, Luke squeezes Ashton's hand, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> come be my friend on [ tumblr](http://lucashemwow.tumblr.com)


End file.
